


subtle and lovely things

by darthpumpkinspice



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24068185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthpumpkinspice/pseuds/darthpumpkinspice
Summary: Two war-weary conquerors, enjoying a respite.
Relationships: Shae Vizla/Darth Acina
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	subtle and lovely things

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick little fic, inspired by Shae Vizla's line to the Republic character in SoR when she basically tells them she finds war exhausting and pointless. And also inspired by Empress Acina's canonical (!) gardening hobby! somehow the most tired Mandalorian become Mand'alor, and the most down-to-earth Sith became Empress. I couldn't help myself but toss them together :D

The scents of jasmine and honeysuckle assault her nostrils the millisecond her helmet is off her head. Pollen tickles into her nose, and Shae sneezes once – and then again a second time, and twice as loud. Behind her, her host lets out a groan that is anything but dignified.

When Shae turns around, Acina has regained her composure, and her face is as smooth and still as an empty lake. “Got something to say?” Shae growls out.

The Empress smirks, and places two well-manicured hands on either side of Shae’s armored shoulders, spinning her back around to face the garden.

“Over a thousand species are maintained here,” Acina hisses into her ear. “I know Mandalorian’s claim to have no use for such things, but _do_ try to humor me.”

Shae obliges, to the best of her ability, and casts her gaze around. Unfortunately for Acina, it’s a warrior’s gaze. Her eye is trained to spot snipers hidden along urban landscapes and analyze troop deployments for battle-plans, not appreciate the softer and finer offerings of Kaas City luxury. It’s… colorful, she supposes. Vines tangle around bright-leaved bushes, and bioluminescent flowers shimmer with a faint radiance. And set against the backdrop of the garden is the great sprawling expanse of the capital city of the Sith homeworld – resplendent in all of its dark, oppressive glory. Lightning flashes overhead, splintering bright and jagged across the sky… a sight Shae admits she finds considerably more impressive than Acina’s assorted foliage.

“I guess I don’t quite see the purpose,” she admits at last to the Empress. “What’s the point of beauty for its own sake?”

Acina’s kohl-rimmed eyes roll in dramatic exasperation, an emotion Shae privately suspects is being _unfairly_ exaggerated. “Beauty,” she insists, “is its own purpose.” Keeping her gaze trained on Shae’s, she reaches out to pluck something from a nearby tree, and holds it up for Shae’s inspection. 

Shae appraises it cautiously. It’s a delicate blossom, and it smells strongly of something undefinably exotic and quite definably floral. Shae strips off her right glove to tentatively stroke the petal, and there’s a satisfyingly velvety sensation under her fingertip. She runs her finger down it again, and almost immediately it crumples like a butterfly wing. Her hand freezes awkwardly in the air, embarrassed, as Acina frowns down at the remnants of the plant.

“You’re a brute,” the Empress says, in a tone that Shae isn’t sure whether to interpret as weary fondness or repressed irritation.

Shae grunts, and settles herself down on a mossy outcropping, deciding she’s quite literally done standing on ceremony. With a resigned sigh, the Empress smooths down the front of her dress, and then joins her. “Sorry,” Shae tells her. “You know I’ve never really had much a sense for anything that doesn’t involve fighting or bleeding. One track mind, I guess.”

Acina takes Shae’s ungloved hand, and kisses it. Her lips are warm and dry, and Shae shivers slightly at the touch. “I was born to the Sith, darling,” she murmurs. “I spent my youth training on the brutal sands of Korriban, and my adulthood traveling from planet to planet, conquering and wreaking havoc at the behest of the Dark Council.” Her eyes glaze slightly, drifting to some old memory, and a faraway smile flickers over her red lips. “All of my gentler passions have been very _deliberately_ cultivated. And trust me; if I can do it, you can too.”

Shae laughs. “No rest for a Mand’alor,” she says ruefully. “I never figured out how you find the time either, but at least you have your own palace. All I’ve got is a tent on whatever world is due for battle next.”

“Give it up,” Acina replies, in as soft a tone as Shae thinks the Empress is capable of. She moves to shake her head in abrupt refusal, and with a startling tenderness Acina reaches out, cupping Shae’s cheek in her hand. “My darling,” she tells her. “You have always hated war. And that’s all there is in the galaxy now. Just a cycle of ceaseless war, the slog of bloody conflicts all blurring together. Random killings, and painful, inglorious deaths. Stay here with me, and spend your days hunting jungle beasts in the wilderness, or even taking on bounties at your leisure.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “I promise: the fauna on this world would interest you _much_ more than the flora.”

“Yeah?” Shae asks, amused. She pushes Acina down against the moss and straddles her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Stay here? As what, your mistress?”

Acina shifts her hips under Shae, and reaches up to grab her waist. She offers a sly smile. “As whatever you wish. We Sith are ruled by our passions, and you….” Acina shifts under Shae again, and her lips curve seductively. When Shae’s gaze flickers to meet the Empress’s, her eyes are glowing golden; fiercely leonine and enticingly sultry. “ _You_ rule _my_ passions. I would refuse you nothing.”

Her lips part invitingly, and Shae consumes her mouth in a hard kiss. Acina’s mouth is hot and hungry, her tongue constantly searching- until the kiss becomes a battle in and of itself. A distinctly more _pleasurable_ battle then the ones Shae has become used to these last few years though, that’s for sure. She fights against Acina for dominance, her hands ripping open the bodice of her dress to grasp and squeeze her newly exposed breasts. Acina gasps out, and Shae counts that as a victory in her favor. Now loosely in control, Shae sucks against Acina’s neck, and feels the other woman arch up underneath her.

When Shae comes up for air, Acina is grinning at her, sharp-toothed and as predatory as a vine tiger. It doesn’t take a master strategist to infer that Shae’s tenuous dominance here is no more, and Acina’s smile widens as she senses the other woman’s realization of this fact. A flex of power ripples over Shae’s skin, telekinetically pulling away her armor and undersuit.

“Down,” Acina purrs; and hers is the only command Shae would ever deign to obey.

Afterwards, Acina lies down beside her, and curls herself snugly into Shae’s arms. “I meant what I said,” she tells her. “You should stay. These conflicts are endless and ugly. We both know there is no honor or glory to be found there.”

Shae kisses her forehead. “This must be a sad sight,” she whistles. “Two old conquerors, reminiscing about how much _better_ war used to be, back in our youth.”

Acina chuckles. “And yet: Mand’alor and Empress. The universe has a sense of humor, after all.”

“Maybe one day,” Shae says, reaching to run her fingers through Acina’s dark hair. “Maybe one day, when all these wars have run themselves down into nothing, I can come and be here with you. Trading a tent for a cushy palace does sound tempting.” The promise tastes like ash on her tongue, and both of them know it’s entirely hollow. But the fantasy is appealing to consider, so she continues. “You can even teach me to appreciate all the subtle and lovely things you like.”

Acina hums her approval. “I’ll dream of the day, my darling.” She pushes herself up, and gazes down at Shae with a look of devilish affection. “But until then… one old conqueror to another… I wouldn’t mind some war trophies to compliment my blossoms. Bring me something cruel and delightful from your next campaign, won’t you?”


End file.
